One Last
by Claeri
Summary: Harry and Hermione witness the death what they think is the last maurader, only to remember that there's one last...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**This is just a prologue, that is why it's so short... the rest of the chapters will be alot longer. I hope you enjoy it.**

**BTW, this was a spur of the moment story that I wrote in about five minutes so please forgive any errors, and tell me what I need to fix.**

**Thanx! **

I watched him fall.

The aged body, tired with years of hardship and pain hit the dusty ground.

We watched him fall.

We watched him fall, and then I watched the man beside me kneel beside the ragged body. And I saw a tear slide down his cheek.

Harry Potter does not cry.

But I saw it. I know I saw it, but I wasn't really there. There was a haze... a shadow over my vision… Or maybe it was just my imagination...

But there was a haze. I know it… sometimes, I feel that is all I know

I don't remember much... Just thinking, "The last... the last... He was the last..."

My next clear memory was of being in the garden at Godric's Hollow. It was so green as compared to dusty, barren landscape where he died. There were trees, and bird song... a natural paradise of the body... but not of the mind. Not of my mind.

He had lived such a... rough... hard… existence. He really only had a few years, a few carefree years before that immense load had fallen on his shoulders... His whole life had been marred by it... He had only been a little boy... a little boy... little... young… what is youth anyway? Why do people wish for youth rather then age?

Harry walked up behind me. I turned so fast that any normal person would have screamed, but Harry didn't even flinch. I don't think that he even noticed.

"He was the last," he said, after a long pause… hours… days…, "The last. They're all gone."

I stared at him, shocked to see, once again, tears swimming in his eyes... green eyes... Lily's eyes... Lily…

Harry Potter does not cry.

The breeze continued to ripple through the trees, the birds continued to sing, the water in the fountain continued to softly splash...

But the real world had crashed down around my shoulders long ago. Things might continue to grow, but growing is just a path to dying... death... dead…

No matter what happens, it will find you... you know it will… You can't escape it, just evade it... Voldemort did. He still does... but there will come a day, like the rest of us, when he too will die. I feel it. I know it. Voldemort knows it…And Harry knows it too. But how many will die before that?

There will be a day when Voldemort dies. That I am sure of… The only thing I am sure of? Even I don't know… This world in which I live… of horror, of death… no body knows… no body knows for sure…

"No" I said, "NO. There is still one more." Harry stared at me. We had been so silent for so long, I believe that he forgot I was there. Escaped into his own world of nothingness…

"What?"

"There's one more."

And he realized it too... there was one more... the last Maurader… one last…

"Peter." Harry said, and looked at me, "Peter Pettigrew."

**A/N: OK, so what happens next? Review, and you'll find out! lol...**

**Luv,**

**Summer**

**PS read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: a new installment in a story that I sort of just left hangin.**

The War changed us all, whether or not we knew it.

Harry, our "savior" became quieter... and stronger. An unspeaking, immovable barrier against the Dark Arts. He kept his emotions hidden, and withdrew so far into himself that I'm not sure he's still the same person I went to school with, three years ago.

Ron, well, Ron's changed. He resides in a cheerful yet sad ward in St. Mungo's. He can't move, except for his face, and a few of his fingers... but I don't want to think about Ron... to remember that awful night...

Ginny is fiercer, and angrier. I haven't seen her smile since... forever. I know she's frustrated. She loves Harry, but he won't let himself be with her until Voldemort is dead... and we have no idea how long that will be. She wants this war to be over, so she's doing her best to help as much as she can. I think she's killed the most Death Eaters of all of us.

And me… I couldn't say how I've changed… but a little… I know I'm not the know-it-all little girl that first entered the magical world. I'm no longer bossy. I'm just… there. But nobody talks anymore. Not about normal things. Only about plans.

Then again, what is normal? Has there ever been normal? This whole world right now, it's like a dream. No, a nightmare. Since that awful day in fourth year, at the Third Task of the Tri Wizard Tournament when Voldemort came back.

Even after that, I had always thought that, as long as Dumbledore was there, as long as we were at Hogwarts, nothing _really_ bad could happen.

And then in sixth year, it did. Sixth year was really when my soft little protected world ended. Dumbledore died.

I can remember Harry telling us, Ron and I, that he was going to have to find the Horcruxes on his own, but we didn't really believe him. Where ever Harry went, we went. It had always been like that. I had always thought that we would all end of in some job together, working together, having little family gatherings. My ignorant little self never even thought it was possible to split the three of us up.

I've grown so much in the four years since Dumbledore died. Since the world crumbled. Since my life fell apart. So much has happened, and though I'm only twenty, only barely an adult, I feel so much older than sixteen.

The room is darker then it usually is, when I enter it. Or maybe it's just the feeling in the room. The members of the Order of the Pheonix sit around a long, scarred table, covered in old papers. A single candle sits in the middle.

No one mentions the man who is no longer here. The meeting starts, and it's like before. We're focused on the only thing in our current lives that we know is always there… danger.

I look up when my name is spoken. The meeting is near it's end, and new assignments are being handed out. Mad-Eye was speaking.

"Harry and Hermione…" we looked at him, both of us with dull eyes, "Find and dispose of number four."

I'm not sure who number four is, but I know Harry does. I'm sure he also knows the reason, which he'll explain to me before we do anything.

Why? It's the only question I ask. I'm always the one asking it. Why must we kill them? Why must we destroy that? Sometimes I fear that my allies have gotten so used to killing that they don't think before they do.

And I'm scared that it's happening to me too.


End file.
